


When all else fails...

by kitausu



Series: Post-Tumblr Purge [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausu/pseuds/kitausu
Summary: This is a collection of my patreon drabbles that I am saving from the tumblr purge





	1. SFW - April Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will be a different patreon drabble and each chapter title will reveal the rating (sfw/nsfw) and the month

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shance - gym au

Shiro knew before he even walked in the door that Lance would be there. His beat-up VW was already outside when Shiro had pulled his truck up into the only remaining spot close to the door. His heart stupidly picked up speed as he scanned his keycard even though he had seen Lance just that morning.

When he walked in, Lance was over in the corner, facing the mirror with a barbell across his shoulder, doing squats. Shiro smirked, watching his boyfriend move, unaware of his appreciative audience. Lance always made the cutest faces when he worked out, his mouth puckered in concentration, his brow furrowed in something almost intimidating even though he claimed he never frowned because of the threat of wrinkles.

Shiro probably would have kept watching, Lance’s thighs clenching a hypnotic thing, but the gym was crowded and his view was quickly blocked by a couple of girls.

Shrugging it off, Shiro quickly moved to set his things in the cubby before heading off to his own workout.

By the time he had warmed up, Lance was on the elliptical, headphones in, sweat dripping down his chin and soaking his tank. Shiro smiled, wondering if Lance had seen him yet. He almost walked over to bug his boyfriend, but those same girls blocked his way again, both of their brows furrowed into surprisingly fierce glares.

Surprised more than anything, Shiro quickly turned and headed back into the weight room. It was unusual for anyone at the gym to take such an obvious dislike to him, but he had never seen those girls before, and figured they were new members. The new year was notorious in that respect.

Maybe they were crushing on Lance, not that Shiro could possibly blame them. He still hoped their gym going habits would fall to the weigh side and he wouldn’t have to deal with watching anyone moon over his boyfriend. That was his job, fortunately. 

Shiro smiled a little, thinking of Lance. He was besotted, there was no other word for it.

He was still thinking about Lance as he took to the Olympic weight bench. On his back, the bar above his head, it was easy to forget about the strange girls as he battled gravity. His thoughts were still on Lance, even as his muscles bulged and fought through the last couple reps.

When he finally re-racked the weights, Shiro was surprised when Lance’s face appeared over his.

“Hey there, stud,” Lance grinned, helping Shiro to sit up from the bench. 

His own hands were sweaty even as he reached out to push Shiro’s bangs back out of his face.

“Hey, baby,” Shiro smiled, catching Lance’s hand before he could take it back, kissing the knuckles lightly and tasting salt.

“Have a good workout?” Shiro asked as he stood and started to take the weights from the bar.

“Oh, yeah, except some weird muscly guy kept checking me out.”

“What?!” Shiro nearly dropped the weight in his hand but managed to steady his grip.

When he finally turned back to Lance, he was grinning cheekily, waiting for Shiro to catch on.

“Oh! Yeah, I think I saw him,” Shiro laughed, playing along.

He moved closer, crowding Lance back so his calves bumped the bench and he had no where to go.

“I’m stronger then him though, baby. I bet I can make you feel so good,” Shiro purred, his voice fake deep and hilariously macho like some of the guys he had heard around the gym before.

“I don’t know, my boyfriend’s the jealous type,” Lance demurred, twisting his hands in front like he was nervous.

“Oh, baby, I can handle—”

A perfectly manicured finger tapped Shiro’s shoulder, drawing his attention away from Lance, and back to the two girls from earlier. They both looked surprisingly intimidating, despite being nearly a foot shorter then Shiro.

“I believe he said no. You should respect people’s boundaries,” one of the two girls snapped.

Her hand was poised over her phone and Shiro had the sudden realization she was about to dial 9-1-1.

“Oh. My. Gosh,” Lance whispered faintly, the start of a laugh evident in his voice.

“Lance!” Shiro admonished, his back still to him from when he had turned, afraid to look away from where he was pretty sure the girl had already hit 9.

“Hello!” Lance called, waving from behind Shiro, and squeezing his way between the girls and his mortified boyfriend.

“I think there’s been a mistake. This, complete and harmless teddy bear behind me, is my boyfriend.”

“What?” The other girl finally spoke up, confusion and skepticism clear in her tone.

“Yeah, we were just playing around. I’m sorry if we worried you!” Lance grinned sheepishly, ramping up the charm to level 10 for good measure.

Shiro watched, relieved, as the girl finally put her phone down, a smile starting to curl her lips.

“Oh…sorry we were just…sorry,” She laughed at little self-deprecatingly, glancing at her friend, then finally at Shiro, who was blushing like mad.

“Sorry, you’re just…a lot,” She shrugged, gesturing at Shiro’s…everything.

“Trust me, I know,” Lance nodded solemnly, before breaking down into a giggle.

“We’ll just let you…get back to your workout,” The girls nodded, each looking increasingly embarrassed as they backed out of the room.

Shiro was pretty sure he heard them leave not long after. He wished he could do the same. Lance was actually on the floor, rolling around, nearly catatonic from laughter. 

“I’m never playing along with you again.”

“But, Shiro! Who’s going to play trainer seduces the house husband with me?” Lance called out from the floor, nearly crying as Shiro stomped away from him to go splash some water on his burning face.


	2. NSFW- April Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Daddy Kink ahoy**

Shiro sat on the edge of the bed, trying his best to play it cool and failing miserably. All he could see was the closed door to his bathroom, and all he could think about was how much he wanted it to open and for Lance to step out, for everything to finally begin.

Even though they had been together for a month, this would be the first time Shiro was going to get to _play_ with Lance. Even just the thought was enough to have his blood pressure spiking. There had always been an understanding that things would come to this, that one day Lance would get on his knees for Shiro, would give him control in this space. It was almost a joke between them now how often Lance would just grin and say _earn it_ in his cute little sing-song voice whenever Shiro asked for anything, even the salt over dinner.

But Shiro _had_ earned it, his final present now in Lance’s eager hands, and he was waiting eagerly for his reward.

It felt like hours before the light in the bathroom finally went dark and the bathroom door clicked open to reveal his boyfriend.

Shiro’s heart stopped.

The creamy peach color of the panties really was perfect against Lance’s dark skin, picking up the rosy hue of his blush and accentuating it. Shiro felt fixated on where Lance’s cock was trapped by the elastic, a little damp spot already forming and spreading along the silken fabric.

“Turn around,” Shiro rasped, both hands gripping his knees so hard his knuckles had turned white on his hand in the effort not to touch.

Slowly, Lance spun so Shiro could see the bow resting over the keyhole cut at the swell of Lance’s ass.

Glancing over his shoulder, Lance licked his lips and asked, “How do I look?”

“Perfect. You look absolutely perfect, baby,” Shiro cooed as he stood, unable to stay sitting any longer, not with Lance looking like every wet dream come to life.

Lance sighed, easing into Shiro’s grip as he clasped Lance’s hips and turned him back around.

“What do we say?” Shiro asked once they were face to face again.

A slow blush was burning across the high points of Lance’s cheeks as he answered, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, baby boy,” Shiro responded, satisfaction and desire heavy in his voice.

This was what they had been waiting for, this was what he had been working so hard to earn: the right to treat Lance like the precious creature he was, to earn the right to take care of his boy. It sent a hot spike of desire down his spine to know this beautiful boy was his now and he would break the world open for him if he wanted Shiro to.

Shiro reached up and cupped the side of Lance’s neck, thumbing the corner of his mouth a little to make him smile. Trailing his hand down Lance’s bare chest, Shiro reached for his waist to pull him tight against him.

Already, Shiro could feel Lance reacting, hard against his hip through the fabric of Shiro’s clothes.

“What do you want baby?” Shiro murmured, reaching down to squeeze Lance’s ass through the panties, enjoying the feel.

“What—whatever you want, Daddy,” Lance stuttered, canting his hips back as Shiro pressed a finger through the keyhole cutout, a little pressure against where Lance was still tight and dry.

“You look so pretty for me. I bet you would look even prettier on your knees…” Shiro trailed off, laughing as Lance started to nod before he had even finished speaking.

Reluctantly, Shiro gave one final squeeze before stepping away from Lance. He really did look gorgeous, flushed all red and ruining his panties just for Shiro.

“Well baby, show Daddy how much you like your present.”

As if his strings had been cut, Lance sunk to his knees hard. Shiro almost stopped him to check he was okay, but Lance’s hands were already working quickly to unbuckle Shiro’s belt and pull out his cock to taste. Shiro sighed, running his hands through Lance’s curls and pulling him back before he could open his mouth and take the head of Shiro’s leaking cock between his lips.

“What did we talk about? Remember your manners,” Shiro chastised lightly.

Blushing again, Lance licked his lips, eyes focused on Shiro’s bobbing cock, “Please Daddy, can I suck your dick?”

“Of course, baby,” Shiro smiled, guiding Lance’s head forward now to take the head of Shiro’s cock between his lips.


	3. Request 1 - April

Shiro watched him from the cover of the forest. The people from the city rarely came close enough to notice him, so it was easy to press close to the tree line and not be seen. 

The young knight was a new development to his daily routine. Normally, if Shiro was lucky, he could catch sight of the baker's wife airing out the laundry, or the widow's daughter running through the tall grass by their house, a little speck in the distance.

The young knight was tall and lanky, skin bronzed, not just by the sun. Shiro recognized the widow's curls in his hair. He hadn't known she had a son as old as this but there were a lot of things Shiro didn’t know anymore. 

There was a time when Shiro knew everything, had power beyond imagining, was feared by dragon and men alike. But…it had been a long time since Shiro had even been this close to another creature.

Dragons were typically solitary creatures outside of war. Their pride and vanity made companionship difficult, and Shiro an even more unlikely choice in either form. His crippled wing was an unsightly thing, making it hard to transform back and forth between human and Dragon form seamlessly. It left him flightless or missing a limb no matter what shape he took. Black and white scales still creeped up his neck even as a human, betraying him to any kindly villager he might come across.

No, Shiro was better off in solitude. He told himself he didn’t need others. He was the feared champion of the Altea. He needed no one but…

But, despite that, the young knight was a welcome distraction from the loneliness that edged around his heart. Nothing could tear him from his now daily ritual of watching the man train, eager for muscle to grow and fill his skinny frame.

In this moment, the knight took a wild swing, off balancing himself and sending him toppling to the floor. Shiro grinned. It was a common, rookie mistake, but one that the knight was making less and less. It was one that Shiro himself had made, then corrected in others, when he had still been able to blend. It still made the knight look like a faun, finding its balance on unsteady feet.

There was blood on the knight's knee from the fall and Shiro expected him to walk home, ending his fun early for the day. Shiro could see, even from this distance, the ocean blue of his eyes as he turned them to the forest. It left Shiro vulnerable and paralyzed even as the knight moved to sit in the shadow of the trees, beyond common sense.

When the knight settled, they were barely a foot apart, only a thin screen of foliage keeping Shiro obscured. He watched in rapture as the man gently plucked a ladybug from the grass and held it in his palm.

“I’ve seen you before,” He murmured, tilting his palm this way and that.

It took Shiro several heartbeats to realize he was not talking to the bug.

“Can you talk?” The man asked again.

Could he? It had been a long time since Shiro had spoken beyond the confines of his own mind.

“How?” Shiro rasped.

It startled him how deep his own voice was, the vibrations grown long unfamiliar in his chest.

A slow smile curled the knight’s lips, even as he continued to inspect the tiny bug in his palm.

“You aren’t exactly as subtle as you think you are,” the knight laughed, finally settling the bug gently back on the ground.

Turning slowly, as if not to startle Shiro, the young man shifted until he was sitting cross-legged and staring directly up into Shiro’s black eyes.

“Besides, I would recognize the hero of Altea anywhere.”

The knight grinned, but Shiro was stunned. No one remembered him. He was as good as dead, he knew this. But the knight was staring at him, awe and pleasure shining in his eyes.

“As a kid, I would harass any traveler that came from the capital, demanding any news of the hero,” he confessed even as sheepishness made him duck his head.

“I was sad to hear you had been wounded.”

It startled Shiro to hear genuine concern in those words, as if this young boy, so removed from him, had actually mourned him…

Shiro cleared his throat, “What…what is your name?”

The words were still stiff in his mouth as he tried to find his voice again but the man didn’t seem bothered by the rasp of disuse.

“Lance, my name is Lance.”

Shiro nodded, he had heard that name before many times, an exasperated cry from the widow.

“Would you sit?” Lance asked tentatively.

He flushed when Shiro dropped gracefully, unthinking of their proximity. Their knees pressed tight together, and Shiro thought of pulling back, only to notice the pleased look Lance shot him.

“You may call me Shiro.”

The words were coming a little easier now and likely would with continued practice. Shiro found, much to his surprise, that he hoped he would have reason to practice. It had been a very long time since a boy like Lance had looked at him like this, with worship and heat in his gaze.

It made something old and long forgotten spark back to life under Shiro’s skin.

As they spoke, it was obvious that Lance wanted to ask why Shiro had disappeared, why he was skulking in the woods near the edge of his little town. Shiro found himself wishing Lance would ask, even though he knew he wouldn’t. For the first time since his injury, Shiro found he wanted to share his thoughts with another.

-

They started to meet regularly after that. Every day Shiro would be sure Lance would not return, and every day he was proven wrong. The pattern continued until a month had passed and the days had grown longer in the summer heat.

Somewhere along the way Lance had taken it upon himself to sit close, to make sure their knees or thighs were always pressed tight together when they met. Shiro couldn’t find it in him to be responsible and create the distance on his own and convinced himself it was okay, that nothing would come of it.

Lost in thought, Shiro startled when he felt Lance’s finger tips ghost across the scales at the side of his neck.

“You never said, is this part of your injury?” Lance whispered, trailing his fingers down to Shiro’s collarbone then back up to where the scales creeped up the edge of his jaw.

Shiro only nodded before subsiding back into stillness so Lance could explore. The scales were smooth, nearly seamless in their transition, even as Lance pressed more firmly against them.

“They feel cold,” he marveled, testing the edge where scales met heated skin.

It was only then that they both realized Shiro was blushing, his cheeks nearly aflame where cool dragon scales could no longer reach.

“O-oh,” Lance gasped, his face closer enough to Shiro’s that his breath fanned across his cheek.

It was unspoken, some mutual agreement founded in the hours spent together, that urged them both forward.

Lance’s lips were raw, bitten and chewed from nerves, but they gave easily under the press of Shiro’s mouth. There was a hunger there, urging Shiro to grab and pull and carry Lance away. It was dragon instinct, to plunder and take. But Shiro had not been a full dragon for a very long time. He slowed the kiss instead, pulling back with one final press of lips against Lance’s chin to make him laugh.

“You’ll be a knight soon,” Shiro reminded him, stalling the impending second kiss.

“And you’ll be my steed?” Lance joked, delighted when Shiro rolled his black eyes and smirked.

It was easy to laugh now, but they both knew Lance would leave soon, to return to the Capitol for training.

“Come with me?” Lance pleaded, knowing it was useless, but needing to try.

Shiro thought of it, of the looks he would receive. The scales, the blackness of his eyes that would never fade, the fangs that even now he so carefully tried to conceal…they would all stand out. _He_ would stand out.

But he also thought of what his life had become, and what it would return to. Could he really go back to being alone? After this? After Lance?

“I might,” Shiro allowed.

“What?”

Lance was stunned, but there was hope there and Shiro realized he had truly meant it. Lance wanted him to come, to be there with him.

“Not as your horse but as your…”

“Lover?”

“Mentor,” Shiro corrected, but they both knew it was a ruse, and a poorly veiled one at that.

“As my mentor, then,” Lance conceded, but he darted forward anyway and sealed it with a kiss.


	4. Request 2 - April

It wasn’t like Lance had never thought about it. They were roommates at the Garrison, which often left little room for privacy or…anything. Lance had _seen_ Hunk in all manners of dress and undress. Lance knew what he looked like and he was a healthy, sex loving guy, and he had _thought_ about it okay.

He had thought about Hunk and just how much bigger he was then Lance. Not in height, where they stood about the same size, but just in sheer width and presence and everything.

Just one of Hunk’s arms, no joke, was as big as one of Lance’s thighs. And Lance had seen them go to work, lifting engine parts in class, hefting luggage up the stares to help freshmen moving in.

There was no place in this universe where Lance would see that and _not_ think about it.

So, _yeah,_ Lance had fantasized about his roommate. He maybe spent a little (or a lot) of time on his back, thinking about what it would be like to have Hunk over him, holding him down, keeping him pinned to the bed with all that weight. It only made it better that it was a race to beat the clock, to squeeze it in while Hunk was at work in the engineering rooms or in class.

More times than not, Lance would end up having to throw the blanket over himself just as the door to their room clicked open, his skin still overheated and heart beating out of time.

Lance pretended Hunk didn’t notice the sheen of sweat on his forehead, or the fact that he was bundled up at 2 in the afternoon. He wasn’t sure if Hunk pretended too, or he really didn’t notice. But either way, it was better that way.

-

Despite all of this, it had never really occurred to Lance how odd it was that he had never once walked in on Hunk jerking off, until it finally happened.

The noise that had woken him wasn’t really even a noise at all, but a feeling that something was just _off._ Whatever it was, it had Lance awake and alert, eyes wide as they adjusted to the darkness around him. There was a little bit of light creeping in from behind the curtains, moonlight casting shadows on Lance, but illuminating Hunk’s side of the room.

At first, Lance couldn’t really process what he was seeing. All he could track was miles of exposed dark skin, the curve of Hunk’s bicep next to the sweeping slope of his belly down to his...

Lance gulped as he realized what _exactly_ he was watching. Even from across the few feet separating their bed, Lance could make out the purple head of Hunk’s cock moving in and out of his fist, the squelching noises loud as a bomb now that he knew what to listen for. It wasn’t the first time Lance had ever seen Hunk’s dick, but it was normally soft, unobtrusive and quick to disappear behind briefs and cargo pants.

Now, it was something else entirely. It seemed large, like the rest of Hunk, intimidating and inviting and so incredibly tempting. All Lance could think was how he wanted to get his mouth on it, how he would let Hunk hold him still and keep him in place as he fucked his mouth.

Just the thought of it had a whimper leaving Lance’s mouth before he could even think to stop it.

Hunk stopped at the noise, his hand still tight around his cock, even as he turned his head to stare directly into Lance’s wide eyes.

“Lance?” Hunk whispered it although it was clear he was awake and had been watching for a while.

Lance licked his lips and didn’t say a word, his mouth too dry to even consider the possibility.

“I can see your eyes are open,” Hunk laughed, but all Lance could see was his hand still around his cock.

In fact, his eyes were trained on it, on the way Hunk’s hips were still rocking a little, probably unconscious of it but driving Lance wild. He could track the exact moment when Hunk realized where he was looking. Even in the dim light the full body flush was obvious, especially as Hunk frantically dropped his own cock and winced when it bounced back to slap against his stomach.

“Uh…sorry…I’ll uh…”

For a second, Lance thought he was actually going to try to go back to sleep, but then Hunk was standing and reaching for his robe and all Lance could think as he sat up in bed was _stop him._

“You’re just…really fucking big…”

Lance mentally punched himself in the face, it was true, but he really shouldn’t have said it.

“Is that…a good thing?” Hunk asked hesitantly, and Lance realizes even more his mistake.

“It’s a _great_ thing,” Lance reassured, fighting a losing battle as his eyes skimmed over Hunk’s chest and arms, and down to where his cock was leaking against his stomach. 

“I feel like I should have known you would be into that,” Hunk snorted, casting his mind back to all the men and women he had ever seen Lance moon over. Now that he thinks about it, they were all distinctly bigger than his wiry frame.

A little hesitantly, Hunk stepped closer to Lance’s bed and watched in fascination as Lance swallowed hard in response.

“What about me being big, is so great?” Hunk asked curiously.

He was aiming for teasing, but there was a little too much honest insecurity there to hit the mark.

“Hold me down,” Lance croaked, then felt his cheeks flush.

Hunk barked a laugh, moving even closer now so he was standing at the foot of Lance’s bed.

“You just look like you could…put me wherever you wanted.”

Lance’s stomach trembled. Some part of him was incredibly aware that this was _Hunk,_ his roommate who once saw him sniveling cry over a photo of his family. But this was also Hunk who brought him a tissue and lent him his blanket when he was cold and always saved him leftovers.

Reaching out tentatively Hunk carded one big hand through Lance’s curls. He pulled Lance’s head to the side and felt his cock twitch at how easily Lance moved with him.

“Have you thought about this before?”

Lance could barely nod as Hunk’s grip tightened, holding him in place.

“Have you?”

Hunk furrowed his brow like he wasn’t sure what Lance was asking.

Blushing furiously, Lance pressed on, “Have you thought about me?”

With a snort, Hunk raised his free hand to run through his hair, his other still firmly gripping the back of Lance’s head by the curls.

He looked as if he was about to say something but changed his mind, settling just on, “Yeah Lance, I’ve thought about you,” with a shrug.

Embarrassed, Lance looked away from Hunk’s face, only to realize how close he was to Hunk’s cock. It really was huge, especially this close. It would be so easy to lean forward and lick the thick vein, to taste the salt on his tongue. Lance must have rocked forward a little subconsciously because Hunk’s grip tightened, pulling him back and away from his cock.

“Lance,” He warned, but there was that same exasperated fondness in his tone he normally had when Lance was being over the top and Hunk was trying not to smile.

“What?”

Hunk released his hold, petting Lance’s hair gently before stepping away completely. Lance frowned in disappointment, trying to understand what he had done wrong.

Hunk was still smiling as he reached for his robe and shrugged it on.

“Your alarms about to go off.”

As if on cue, Lance’s phone started to ding, a shrill noise cutting the silence in their room to pieces.

“We’re finishing this later!” Lance called after Hunk who was blushing even as he laughed and walked out the door.

-

(The excerpts I couldn’t work in but still wanted to include)

Hunk hiked him up against the closed door almost too easily, nearly overbalancing them so Hunk had to step back and stabilize.

“Don’t know your own strength, huh?” Lance laughed, petting the back of Hunk’s head when he had groaned in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” Hunk huffed but he was grinning when he pulled back to look Lance in the eye.

Lance wasn’t necessarily petite, but he weighed next to nothing in comparison to the mechanical equipment Hunk worked with every day. His bones were fine, delicate things and Hunk marveled at how easily he could nearly wrap one hand around both of Lance’s wrists, pinning them above his head and still hold him steady against the wall.

“As much as I love this, do you really think you can hold this position?” Lance teased, giving an experimental wiggle that had Hunk nearly dropping him to the floor.

“How did I know you would be like this?” Hunk rolled his eyes.

“We’ve known each other too long,” Lance offered teasingly.

Reluctantly, Hunk dropped Lance’s wrists, using both hands to hike Lance more securely in his hold.

“Hold on.”

“Wha--!”

Lance scrambled to wrap his arms around Hunk’s shoulders as he pulled him away from the door and backtracked towards their beds. 

Hunk dropped Lance down to the bed, manhandling him until he was on his knees, cheek pressed into the mattress, Hunk’s hand back around his wrists and pressing them into the small of Lance’s back.

The angle meant Lance could not move, every breath expanding his ribcage and forcing him closer to Hunk’s chest.

“Shit,” Lance breathed as he sagged completely against the mattress.

“What? Are you okay?”

Hunk started to pull back but Lance jerked his head, “I’m good, I’m good!”

Readjusting his grip, Hunk waited for an explanation. Lance knew if he didn’t say anything, they could sit here for ages. It was a blessing and a curse, knowing that Hunk was probably looking at him, one eyebrow raised, waiting, just like he always did when Lance was being evasive. 

“It’s just, you really are big,” Lance sighed almost dreamily.

Hunk snorted, sitting back just to admire his hands on Lance. Trust Lance to somehow take something he had always been self-conscious of and to turn it into an advantage.

“I’ll show you something big.”

“Oh my gosh, _no,_ ” Lance laughed trying to wiggle around to where he could look at Hunk but with little success.

“I was trying to dirty talk and you’re ruining it!” Hunk exclaimed in mock outrage, a little embarrassed as Lance continued to giggle under him.

“Sorry, I’ll respond better.”

Lance cleared his throat, “Oh ravage me my— _”_

“Nope! I’m just going to fuck you now!” Hunk yelled out, wincing because yeah, their dorm neighbors absolutely heard that.

But Lance was still wiggling and laughing and Hunk found himself more than distracted from tomorrow’s embarrassment.


	5. SFW - May Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shklance - college au

Everyone in Professor Coran’s Biology 101 course had a crush on Shiro, the TA. This was a universal fact acknowledged by every student, professor, and blade of grass campus wide. It was indisputable. It was immovable and unchangeable and impossible to avoid.

Everyone in Professor Coran’s Biology 101 course also knew that Shiro had a dark haired, leather jacket wearing undergraduate boyfriend who met him after every class with a cup of coffee and a scowl directed at everyone and everything in the room. This was a newer occurrence, one that had started up just last Fall and was largely the reason that Shiro had been saved many embarrassing confessions in the past year now that Keith’s schedule had _finally_ worked out to make this possible.

Because of this, Shiro had been universally declared off limits to anyone on campus, possibly on earth, except for Keith because…well…Shiro always looked so soft when he said _my boyfriend_ on the rare moment he discussed his personal life and the Biology department was not a department of homewreckers. So say we all.

Lance knew this. He knew that anyone who dared to break this cardinal rule would be subjected to ridicule, anger, and the full might of the Biology Honor’s Society. Which was why he resolutely did not tell Shiro or Keith where he was going on the first day of the new semester on the one day his own schedule finally worked out.

He left just late enough to not walk with Shiro and still get there on time. Lance avoided Keith’s sleepy question about where he was going that morning with a kiss and a whisper that he would be back in a couple hours.

“I’m goin to pick up Shiro later…coffee?” Keith slurred into Lance’s abandoned pillow.

Lance kissed him again, brushing a hand through Keith’s unruly hair as he did.

“Coffee,” he agreed, before slipping on his shoes and heading out into the morning light.

To Shiro’s credit, he only looked minorly confused when he spotted his boyfriend waltzing through the door. He shot him a questioning look, but Lance only grinned from his place on the front row and waggled his fingers.

The class was normal enough. Lance knew better then to interrupt the lecture and _actually_ piss Shiro off. He took notes diligently and asked polite questions about the calendar that he already knew the answers to but knew Shiro hated to stare at a silent, vacant eyed room.

It was after the class had ended, and a small crowd of students were forming to ask Shiro questions that Lance took action. Shiro was shuffling his leftover syllabi around on the desk when Lance skipped the line and sat directly on the desk so Shiro’s hand was barely an inch from his thigh.

Even in a setting like this, it was easy to remember that there were deep bruises on Lance’s skin in the shape of Shiro’s hands just a thin layer of denim away from prying eyes. To his credit, Shiro’s eyes only lingered a moment before flicking up to Lance’s face.

“Mr. Shirogane?” Lance asked, batting his eye lashes coyly and shifting his legs.

He could see Shiro biting his lip and trying not to laugh. His eyes kept flicking behind Lance where, no doubt, the remaining students were seeing red.

“Yes, Lance?”

Lance pouted only a little. At least Shiro was _kind_ of playing along.

“I was wondering when your office hours were. I might need some,” Lance licked his lips, “ _extra_ help.”

There was a sharp inhale from behind Lance and he nearly broke character, the urge to laugh bubbling up in his stomach as he pictured red faced freshman ready to pounce.

“My office hours are by appointment, Lance,” Shiro sighed like he had answered this question a thousands times before.

(Lance knew for a fact, he had). 

He was shaking his head a little in annoyance, but Lance could see the fine tremor of suppressed laughter in his shoulders.

“Oh I bet they—”

“Hey!”

Keith was standing in the doorway, looking pleasantly surprised to find both boyfriends already there and ready to be collected. The room behind Lance felt tense, like the group was waiting for something, an explosion maybe. Boyfriend meets homewrecking student: Fight GO!

“I thought we were meeting at the coffee shop.”

Ignoring the gawking students, Keith came fully into the room and kissed Shiro quickly on the cheek. Lance cleared his throat, pointing at his own cheek and struggling not to laugh at the breakout of whispers in response.

“Spoiled,” Keith muttered affectionately and only laughed when Lance suddenly turned his head so their lips met instead.

Lance hopped off the desk once he was satisfied and reached for Shiro’s hand to help him from the chair. His mouth was tingling a little from the feint stubble of Keith’s cheek, and Shiro was giving them that hopelessly fond look he wore so well.

“Shiro, I want a white mocha, stat!”

“Stat, huh?” Shiro allowed himself to be moved, dropping his weight so he purposefully stumbled into Lance so he could grab him and kiss the crown of his head.

“So, did you skip a class to be here, or what?” Shiro laughed as Lance snuggled close and pulled Keith into the hug as well so they were huddled at the front of the room.

Most of the students had filtered out at this point, but they could hear barely contained whispers in the hall building into a full crescendo. 

“Nah, my thesis director canceled last minute and I thought this would be fun!”

Keith’s eyes widened as the pieces finally came together. He smacked Lance on the back of the head, exasperation and fondness waring on his face.

“You’re too much,” he groaned, pulling away and leading them each by the hand out the door.

There was a crowd of onlookers outside the door and Shiro really did not want to know what the rumor mill would churn out by his next class period. But, he was too happy to hold Keith’s hand and listen to Lance chatter about his thesis to give it too much thought.

As Lance would say, that was a problem for _future_ Shiro.


	6. NSFW - May Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shklance - pet play

Keith still wasn’t sure how he felt about this. It was something Shiro and Lance had done before he had joined the relationship, or as Lance called it, B.K. (Before Keith). It was also something they hadn’t done since and being the cause of that made him feel a little guilty. Keith hated the idea that he was keeping them from something, even if Lance and Shiro had assured him he wasn’t.

“It wouldn’t be fun anymore if you weren’t there,” Lance had shrugged, sprawled out on the bed between them all languid and orgasm drunk from Shiro working them both over.

“Still…” Keith trailed off, twisting the blanket nervously between his fingers.

He turned when Shiro’s hand reached across and cupped his chin. The metal of his prosthetic was body warm, and Keith flushed at the tacky feeling of lube against his skin.

“Seriously, it’s fine. It isn’t something either of us need, especially if it means we couldn’t have you there, too,” Shiro soothed.

Keith knew, logically, Shiro wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. But he still saw them sometimes, Shiro’s hand petting Lance’s curls, the way Lance would butt into the touch with practiced, cat like ease. They probably weren’t even aware they were doing it, but Keith saw it anyway.

The thing was, he wasn’t even sure he would like it. It seemed…so weird…so…not anything he had ever even considered. Except…sometimes…when he let himself really consider, he also couldn’t help but feel something hot and sticky and full of want in his chest every time Shiro’s fingers carded through his hair, too.

It was that feeling, bubbling up and overwhelming him for months, that had brought him here, kneeling at Shiro’s feet next to Lance. He could feel the carpet fibers digging into his skin, but the discomfort was a vague, background thing.

Shiro had a hand in Keith’s hair, holding him just tight enough to feel, cradling the back of his skull and grounding him in the sea of unfamiliarity. It helped that Lance was so eager, little excited mewls falling from his lips almost unintentionally as he shifted restlessly next time him. Keith felt electricity spark every time their bare thighs brushed.

“Are you happy kitten?” Shiro asked fondly.

Lance meowed, rubbing his cheek against Shiro’s bare knee and practically vibrating when Shiro rewarded him with a scratch behind his ear.

“See, kitty, kitten is so happy you’re here with him,” Shiro turned his eyes on Keith as he reassured him.

He watched him fondly, massaging the back of Keith’s head as he continued to let Lance nuzzle into the meat of his thigh. They had agreed that Keith would be kitty, a distinction that would help since Lance only responded to kitten in this space.

It was a hazy line Keith walked, the space between kitty and Keith. It felt dangerous and exciting, and as much as he wanted to stay alert and aware, he wanted to fall into that headspace and join Lance. Like most things, Lance made it look easy and fun.

Keith blinked when Shiro suddenly rolled his eyes, his hand in Lance’s hair tightening and yanking him back from where he had started to lick at Shiro’s cock through his briefs.

“Did I say you could do that?” Shiro asked, firmly but not unkindly.

Lance meowed, low and mournful, but there was a smirk lurking under the façade that was difficult to miss. Shiro gave him a soft knowing look, but his fist remained tight, keeping Lance still.

“Don’t be greedy kitten, let kitty play first. It’s his first time.”

Using his hold on Lance’s hair, he directed his head to look at Keith. It surprised Keith to see the lust in Lance’s eyes, that it was directed at him just as much as Shiro.

“Why don’t you apologize,” Shiro ordered, nudging Lance closer, although he needed no encouragement.

Keith whined as Lance moved to press sloppy, open mouthed kisses against his lips, meowing under his breath. When Shiro pulled Lance back, Keith almost didn’t recognize the meow coming from himself as he tried to follow. He sounded desperate and needy and that sticky hot feeling in his stomach only increased.

“There’s my kitty,” Shiro praised.

He used both hands to pet them simultaneously, seemingly calm and together and content to watch them at his feet. But Keith could see the tent in Shiro’s briefs, the growing wet spot, the tightening of the corners of his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Keith nudged against Shiro’s knee to get his attention with a long, plaintive meow. Lance and Keith both watched, fascinated, as Shiro’s cock twitched.

“Well, how can I say no when my kitty asks so nicely,” Shiro conceded, like he was doing Keith a favor, sending a bolt of lust down Keith’s spine. 

Shiro finally let them both go, exposing his leaking cock quickly and tucking his briefs beneath his balls.

“Go on then, take your treat.”

It was a little clumsy, two mouths working over Shiro’s cock. Keith’s tongue kept brushing Lance’s, and he could feel Lance every time he mewled, sending vibrations through Shiro’s cock and making him thrust between their hungry mouths. Everything felt hazy and slowed down in this space. Keith let Shiro push him forward, his cock slipping between his lips and down his throat. He could vaguely tell Lance was nearby, licking at the parts of Shiro’s cock still exposed to the air.

He didn’t know how long he was there, enjoying the feel of his throat being filled. The spurt of come in his mouth surprised him though, choking him a little even when Shiro let him pull off. Lance took his place quickly, barely wasting a drop as he swallowed everything he could.

“What good pets I have,” Shiro sighed fondly as Lance finally pulled back and licked his lips.

“Kitten, do you want to take care of kitty now?”

Keith barely had a second to blink before Lance was on top of him, kissing him, petting him everywhere. Under the onslaught, Keith did the only thing he could do, and meowed into Lance’s open mouth.

-

If Keith were honest, he likely would have given in eventually. Curiosity was often times an overwhelming creature and he would always be curious about Shiro and Lance. But finding the collar had been an accident.

It had been tucked behind some of Shiro’s old running shoes and Lance’s yoga mat. When Keith picked it up he was surprised by how expensive it felt, the velvet soft against his skin like a jewelry box. It didn’t even occur to Keith to feel embarrassed or like he was snooping when he carried out to the living room.

“Hey, did you find the sweat…oh…” Lance flushed, eyes locked on the thin box.

Keith suddenly had an idea of what he was holding.

“Can I open it?”

Even though he had a good idea that what was in here belonged to Lance, the question was directed at Shiro. Questions like this usually _were_ directed at Shiro.

“Go ahead,” Shiro allowed.

His voice had gone deep and Keith could feel his body reacting on instinct.

The collar was nestled in the box, the leather a deep blue, and looked expensive and soft to the touch. The little heart shaped tag read _Lance,_ just like Keith knew it would.


	7. Request 1 - May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shance - sugar daddy lance

Shiro sighed and ran his hand through his sweaty bangs. The men and women around him were all soaked in sweat, hands on their knees as they tried to catch their breath. The company he worked for trained them hard, even for those as in shape as most of the bodyguards there. But it was a good feeling, a satisfying one in the end.

“Shiro!” the instructor bounded up to him, still annoyingly perky and energetic after nearly working Shiro to death.

“Sir!” Shiro snapped to attention but the man just laughed, patting him on the shoulder.

“Nice job today! I would keep an eye out for a promotion if I were you,” he winked before moving off to discuss improvements with the other men.

Shiro grinned to himself, rolling his shoulders a little. His bad shoulder was still stiff, even all these years later, but Lance had found the best PT in the state and Shiro could already feel the difference. Apparently, so could his instructor.

“I saw that,” one of the guys teased, knocking Shiro lightly with his shoulder.

“What’s been putting a smile on your face lately, Shiro?” another cajoled as they gathered their things and made for the door.

Shiro just grinned as left the building with the group and walked over to his car. Lance had dropped the keys to the Aston Martin into his hand a few days ago and it still felt like a wild dream.

“Dude, you got the raise already?”

Shiro blushed, fiddling with the keys in order to avoid looking anyone in the eye as he explained it was a gift.

“A gift? Who gives someone an _Aston Martin_ as a gift?”

Smiling a little, Shiro remembered asking Lance the same question.

 _“Someone who has a gorgeous boyfriend that looks like James Bond in a suit,”_ Lance had laughed, and pressed the keys more firmly into Shiro’s hand.

Lance always had a way of framing things so it sounded like Shiro was doing _him_ a favor while still managing to spend thousands of dollars at the same time. It was an art and a skill, as far as Shiro was concerned.

“Someone who expects me at dinner, and I’m running late,” Shiro laughed much to his co-workers’ annoyance.

He graciously accepted the boos he got in return and hopped into the car before anyone else could question him.

-

Later, when Lance allowed Shiro to press him up against the side of the Ferrari outside of the restaurant, he still tasted like the rich chocolate cake they had shared for desert. Lance had teased him, waving the little gold fork back and forth before finally allowing Shiro to take bites each time.

A flake of the gold leaf from the decoration was caught at the corner of Lance’s mouth and Shiro chased it hungrily. It had no flavor, but Shiro pressed harder and when it was gone he chased Lance’s mouth instead. Lance groaned, allowing Shiro to crowd him further up against the side of the car, starving for him.

“Mmmm, no,” Lance hummed finally, pushing Shiro back lightly to put some space between them.

“No?” Shiro slurred, confused and drunk on the taste of him and one too many glasses of Dom Pérignon as he still tried to move closer.

Lance grinned, pressing the tips of his fingers to Shiro’s mouth.

“You seem to be under the impression that you’re in control here,” Lance licked his lips, Cheshire smirk curling the sides of his mouth.

“Remember, I call the shots, Daddy,” Lance whispered.

He leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Shiro’s mouth to replace his fingers, running his tongue lewdly along Shiro’s bottom lip, before ducking out from under his arm.

“Get in the car.”

Shiro only nodded, dumbfounded as he rounded the Ferrari to slip into the passenger seat as instructed. 

The smell of leather seemed heightened, _everything_ seemed heightened, the feel of the upholstery under his hands, the bounce of his knee, impatient as Lance drove infuriatingly at exactly the posted speed limit.

Everything always seemed so much _more_ with Lance, like the world was richer for him and Shiro was basking in his light.

They were waiting at a red light when Lance started to speak, “When we get back to the penthouse, you’re going fuck me just the way I like, you understand?”

“Whatever you want,” Shiro rasped.

He was watching Lance closely, so he saw immediately when Lance grinned out the side window.

“Big strong Shiro, under my control,” Lance sang and Shiro could only swallow, his throat dry and constricted.

It was absolutely true, in more ways than one.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence, the gentle purr of the Ferrari accompanying them down the road, the flash of street lights sending them into contrasting light and shadow. The garage was thankfully empty when Lance finally pulled into his spot.

Shiro jumped out of the car like a shot, rounding the side to reach for Lance, but his boyfriend simply grinned and danced out of his hold.

“Not yet,” he laughed, wagging a teasing finger at him as he backed towards the elevator door.

Shiro growled, prowling after him and into the lux elevator compartment.

“Baby, baby, please,” Shiro huffed, not caring how pleading he sounded as he crowded close again.

His beard scrapped against Lance’s neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses along his skin, trying to tempt. Lance seemed to go pliant in his hold and for almost a second, Shiro thought he had won. But the elevator dinged and Lance laughed airily and seemingly evaporated out of his hold like smoke.

The lights in the penthouse were set low when Lance unlocked the door. Shiro fully expected Lance to make a beeline for the bedroom but groaned when his love detoured into the kitchen instead.

“Come here.”

Lance was holding a box in his hands when he rounded the corner, the sleek Bulgari script illuminated by the bright kitchen lights.

“Lance,” Shiro sighed, reaching out for Lance’s hips only to have the box pressed into his flesh palm.

“Put on the watch, Daddy,” Lance ordered, no room for argument.

Shiro opened the box and did as he was told, obedient to every one of Lance’s whims. Here in this space, he was never in control. He had every illusion of control, the advantage of height and muscle, the name Lance called him so sweetly, so affectionately.

But they both knew what this was. Lance liked to be in control, to wrest it away from powerful men, like so many had tried to do to him over the years. And Shiro…Shiro was more then willing to be his pet.

So he put on the watch, let Lance take his hand and admire the black band on his wrist.

“Do you like it?” Lance asked, his voice always a touch vulnerable on this question.

“I do,” Shiro smiled, admiring the watch as well and happily kissing Lance when he tilted his face up for one.

He never complained about the gifts anymore. He never questioned Lance in these moments because that wasn’t their dynamic, it wasn’t what Lance needed.

Lance flipped Shiro’s hand in his and laced their fingers so he could pull him into the bedroom.

Shiro went easily when Lance pushed him onto the bed, hands going automatically over his head. He watched, breath growing heavy as Lance slowly slipped the jacket from his shoulder. He smiled, teasingly as he stepped out of his slacks, bending low so Shiro could watch his ass pop into the air. He looked ethereal in the lacy crop top from dinner, the thin panties damp and pulling tight across his hard cock.

He took a moment to just watch Shiro, hands on his hips.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Lance sighed, kneeing up onto the bed so he was straddling Shiro’s lap.

Shiro bit back his own reply, that Lance was stunning, perfection personified.

Instead he let Lance smooth both hands up Shiro’s chest, admiring the feel of muscle beneath the linen. Shiro sighed, shifting a little on the bed as Lance started to unbutton his shirt, exposing his chest to the cool air before moving lower.

Lance made quick work of his belt, clearly growing impatient as he pulled Shiro’s cock out from the slit of his briefs. There was no more teasing in his movement now. Shiro watched, fascinated as Lance shifted up onto his knees and positioned himself over Shiro’s cock. Lance pushed the back of his panties down below the swell of his ass, and Shiro thought for one wild second that Lance was going to try to take him dry.

He should have known better, the hot wet press of Lance suddenly surrounding him, making his hands shoot down to Lance’s hips only to realize he had stopped the moment Shiro moved.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lance panted, holding himself steady and only half way on Shiro’s cock.

“Nothing, _fuck,”_ Shiro gasped.

Slowly, he moved his hands back up over his head, still wild with the idea that Lance had sat all through dinner, open and wet for him.

“There we go,” Lance sighed, sinking all the way down once Shiro was back under control. 

They both sat there, panting, gasping for air but Lance recovered first. He circled his hips, forcing Shiro to watch and accept whatever pleasure Lance gave him.

Neither of them lasted long after that, too worked up from dinner and everything in between. Shiro’s orgasm snuck up on him, bowing his back as he emptied into Lance, who followed not long after.

Lance grinned, flushed and happy as he ran his fingers through the mess he had made on Shiro’s chest.

“Look what you did, Daddy,” Lance jokingly chastised, pressing his dirty fingers to Shiro’s lips.

When Lance pulled his fingers away, Shiro smiled up at him lazily, “Thanks for the watch.”

Lance kissed him slowly, pulling back just a little to whisper, “Any time.”


	8. Request 2 - May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shklance - abo

Shiro has always considered himself to be a very open-minded alpha. He has modern sensibilities and a very liberal outlook on life. He doesn’t believe in using his pheromones unsolicited on omegas, he doesn’t posture, or try to challenge other alphas out of nowhere. He _certainly_ doesn’t view omegas as property or wombs or whatever disgusting vomit so many cowardly alphas spew online.

He is a modern alpha of the 21st century and he has always been proud of that.

And yet he knows that if he looked in the mirror right this second his eyes would be deep, alpha red. The red of an alpha barely in control, whose fangs are currently pressed hard against the swell of his upper lip as he watches the exchange between his omegas and the Dracorex leader.

The Dracorex are a primarily beta, reptilian like species, with Alphas and Omegas rare enough to cause a stir and to insight greed in the wealthy. Shiro has been bound, as is customary for any unbonded Alphas at a Dracorex political event. That is, or so he was led to believe when he accepted the collar and chains currently holding his arms behind his back and to an outer wall.

Keith and Lance had tried to make a fuss, reasonably distraught that their normally coolheaded Alpha should be restrained in any way. But Shiro had just kissed them each and assured them it was fine. He trusted Allura and knew she would not lead them into danger. Besides, they needed this alliance if the coalition was to be as strong as it possibly could.

The attendant had ushered Keith and Lance away once the bonds were being put in place. So they were across the room when the final lock clicked shut, and Shiro was bound within a one foot radius of the wall. It was only once his chains were in place that Shiro smelled it, the musky, dangerous scent of unbonded Alpha projecting pheromones.

Shiro watched, transfixed, as the leader of the Dracorex oozed into the room and made an immediate beeline for Lance and Keith.

The Dracorex, as a warrior people, did not understand things like pre-bonding and courtships. They fought for their rights, even betas, to mate. So even with Shiro’s scent all over them, without the bite on their scent glands, the Dracorex viewed Lance and Keith, _Shiro’s_ omegas, as unmated…as fair game.

It was an unfamiliar feeling, the possessive jealousy pouring through Shiro’s veins. Keith and Lance were their own people. Shiro did not, and never would, own them. But the snarl that ripped through his chest physically hurt as he watched the exchange in front of him.

Shiro felt overwhelmed with helplessness as all he could do was look on from across the room as one leathery hand reached out for Lance. The intent was clear in the Dracorex’s scent, his pheromones pulsing in the air.

It was a testament to how out of control Shiro was becoming to his instincts that he could barely enjoy the satisfaction of watching Lance slap the hand away or of Keith immediately pulling his pair bond back by the scruff of his neck. His omegas were fierce, strong creatures.

It didn’t stop Shiro from fighting the bonds, struggling to get to them, to claim, to protect.

The Dracorex leader only laughed, leering down at them, enjoying the idea of a fight. Shiro could smell blood as he struggled harder against the chains. Keith kept sending him worried looks, his eyes flickering between the leader, Lance, and Shiro. He still had not released his hold on Lance, yanking him back another step and firmly to his side.

A deep primal part of Shiro was proud of them, the way his omegas were already so close, how they were basically already pack. Omegas were naturally protective of each other, but any idiot could see they were packmates, pair bonded omegas waiting for their alpha to get it together.

Shiro’s primal side struggled to remember _why_ he didn’t have it together.

He knew, logically, he must have had some reason for waiting. He remembered laying it all out for them, enduring Keith rolling his eyes and Lance crawling into his lap, tempting him with the curve of his neck. But he couldn’t remember any of them. All he knew was the sear of metal on his flesh arm as his Galra activated, the clang and snap of metal in his fist as he broke free from the wall.

One of the chains was still dragging from his human wrist, a warning bell as he broke into a sprint across the room.

“Shiro!”

“Alpha—”

Lance and Keith both went easily, willingly as Shiro swept them behind his back. It soothed him to be accepted by his chosen mates without question. The primal alpha part of him needed the reminder that they were his, even if they did not hold his mark.

“Black Paladin, what isssssss the meaning of—”

“ _Mine,”_ Shiro snarled, fangs bared.

He could feel the hair raise on the back of his own neck. One of his omegas had a hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing it soothingly. Another… _Lance,_ was purring in his ear. He could feel the frantic edge of their work, the scent of omegas trying desperately to calm their alpha out of a rage.

“They do not—”

“ _Mine!”_ Shiro didn’t even recognize his voice, the roar guttural and ripping his throat.

He was blind to sense, running entirely on instinct. The bonds, the sour note of distress on their scents, the vulnerable look in Keith and Lance’s eyes, it had stripped him of everything but blood and rage and the willingness to do anything to protect them.

Shiro lost time after that. He remembered backing up, pushing Keith and Lance out the door, but the getaway was unclear, Allura’s neutral beta scent mixed in at some point. All he could focus on was getting out of there, getting his pack to safety.

Lance and Keith were quiet, allowing Shiro to gently push them back to their rooms in the building that smelled wrong, but would have to be good enough. They were uncharacteristically docile, letting Shiro arrange them on the bed, where he could hover over them, keep them in sight.

He missed the look between them, but not the quiet omega chirp Lance shot Keith.

“What?” Shiro asked, coming back to himself a little more.

His voice sounded raw, wrecked from before.

Keith breathed deep, reaching up to untie the neck guard they had been asked to wear, protecting his glands. Lance followed quickly after, the sudden exposure of their scent glands flooding the room with their combined smell. Shiro’s mouth watered, his fangs dropping once more but for entirely different reasons.

“Shiro, it’s time,” Keith murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek.

Running a thumb along Shiro’s cheek bone, he smiled and Shiro understood with painful clarity exactly what he meant.

“This isn’t what I…” Shiro tried to protest, but his eye caught on Lance, whose long fingers were now massaging his gland, sending wave after wave of pheromone cascading into the room.

“You’ll trigger my rut,” Shiro growled.

His eyes never left Lance, or where he was now licking the thin oil from his glands from his own fingers.

“That’s kind of the point,” Lance laughed, shooting Shiro an indulgent look.

“You’ve been Mr. Self-Sacrificing long enough. Take what we’re offering you,” Keith whispered.

Lance cupped the other side of Shiro’s face, bracketing him between them. Even if he wanted to protest, he couldn’t. He could already feel the adrenaline building again. Keith’s hand had slipped down to Shiro’s neck, pressing into the gland there to release his own scent so it blanketed the room, overpowering the foreign Dracorex smell.

Even if Shiro had wanted to stop his rut, he couldn’t. Too many hormones and pheromones were flooding his system. His omegas were here, offering themselves, _wanting_ Shiro to do it.

How could he deny them any longer? How could he deny himself?

Their mating was quick and messy, nothing like what Shiro had wanted it to be. He had fantasized, only a little, about how he would be gentle with them both, how he would lay them out and coax them through it.

Shiro was having a hard time remembering why he had ever thought this would be wrong: Lance bouncing in his lap, head thrown back as Shiro tasted blood on his tongue and filled his mouth with his scent, Keith under him, baring his neck and begging him to do it, hanging off his knot and sobbing when his fangs sank in.

Later, Shiro wondered, truly how he had thought there even was a wrong way to do this. How could anything with them ever be wrong? Everything they did was perfect.

“Lance is drooling on your chest,” Keith pointed out sleepily, his own cheek nestled in the corner of Shiro’s neck.

The bite Keith had left was still bleeding a little from Shiro’s scent glands and he licked it tentatively. Shiro only laughed, letting Keith nudge his head to the side. Lance was out cold and splayed out across his chest, but Shiro couldn’t help but stroke his hair, and feel the heat of his skin as Keith continued to kiss his neck.

With a final kiss to his cheek, Keith settled down to finally go to sleep.

“You’re a good Alpha, Shiro,” Keith hummed as he linked his own arm across Lance’s back as if to hold them all together.


	9. SFW - June Drabble

Shiro flipped the sign on the coffee shop door with an eager air. Most of his regulars wouldn’t start arriving for another 30 or 45 minutes. All except for one.

Lance had started coming into the coffee shop every morning about two months ago and Shiro could time his arrival to the second as the clock ticked closer to 6:42am. Lance always wore a pressed white button down, black slacks, and a shiny black belt that his young charge frequently used as a hand hold. Shiro didn’t know the exact age of the young sullen boy who clung to Lance, but he would easily put him at about 8 or 9.

It was a joy for Shiro, to watch Lance every day, attempting to pull a smile from the boy, and to see the glow of triumph Lance got whenever he could coax out a giggle or a grin. Shiro figured he must be a nanny, even though he had never asked.

The first month, Shiro had contended himself with watching and flirting shamelessly whenever Lance would come up for a re-fill, the boy a limpet at his side instead of waiting at the table.

“You’re pretty obvious,” the boy sniffed one day, and Shiro nearly choked.

“Obvious how?” Shiro tried to play it off, but they were both already looking at Lance standing a few feet away, clumsily dumping 10 sugar packets into his coffee.

“He’s single, you know,” the boy continued, unperturbed by Shiro’s failing attempt at nonchalance.

Shiro licked his lips and pointedly did not fantasize about taking Lance out…maybe to the gym? He looked scrawny, but Shiro could see the hint of lean muscle beneath the starched button-up. It would be a sight, to see him in less, to watch him squat and press…

Coughing, Shiro pressed a pastry into the boy’s hand and ushered him back to Lance so he wouldn’t see the blush rising to his cheeks.

After that, Lance started to linger at the counter more. Shiro had a keen suspicion that his little charge had said something, but Shiro was not about to complain. In fact, it made him bolder. Bold enough to touch his hand, bold enough to ask a burning question that had been at the tip of his tongue for weeks. Shiro had even started to open his mouth, standing on the other side of the counter for once, when Lance lunged at him, knocking him and the boy to the ground.

The words escaped his throat in a puff of air, the oxygen shoved from his lungs by impact. It didn’t even process until several heartbeats later that Shiro had heard a gunshot. He watched as Lance moved in quick sure motions: tucking the boy behind him when he stood, drawing a gun, aiming through the window Shiro only now realized was shattered.

Lance fired the gun, easy efficient movements as his tracked someone across the front of the store, shattering the glass door and the window on the other side.

Just as quickly as it had started it stopped. Lance paused, but did not lower his gun. There were sirens in the distance, whirring in and out of focus as Shiro’s ears rang from proximity.

“Did you get him?” the boy asked, face pressed into Lance’s back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

He would have still sounded bored, if not for how Shiro could see the tremors working through his legs from where Shiro was still flat on the ground.

After a pause Lance nodded. “Yeah, I got him.”

Cautiously, Shiro sat up. He could see a man on the ground outside the door, blood pooling around him and spilling over cracks in the sidewalk.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked, and it took Shiro a minute to realize he was talking to him.

“Yeah, uh, yeah. I’m fine.” Shiro accepted the hand Lance offered, hauling him to his feet.

Shiro thought inanely of the strength in Lance’s grip, a hair more than just the lean and wiry strength he had assumed. There seemed to be a second, where Lance almost said…something, still holding his hand and looking him square in the eye. But the boy was clinging to him, tiny sobs starting to work past the muffle of Lance’s shirt.

Lance only smiled at Shiro instead before tugging the boy round and up into his arms. “Let’s get you home, huh?”

Lance walked out of the shattered door, not bothering to open the frame. His dress shoes crunched on the glass as he stepped over the body and to his car, not even sparing the dead a glance.

Vaguely, Shiro thought about how much it was going to take to clean up this mess. Vaguely, he wondered if he was going into shock.

-

When Shiro arrived back at the coffee shop the next morning, he thought it must have been a dream. Maybe even a fever dream, of a lanky boy who handled a gun like he had never done anything else. The glass had all been cleared away and the windows replaced. If it hadn’t been for the rusty stain on the sidewalk, Shiro probably could have convinced himself that nothing had happened at all.

Shiro turned the TV on overhead and was surprised to see a photo of the boy on the news. The heir to Galra Tech, saved by an unnamed body guard. 

_The CEO admits the child and heir was put into protective custody after a series of threats were issued from an unknown source. While there is no lead on who—_

The bell to the front door tinkled, and Shiro looked up to see Lance standing sheepishly in the middle of the coffee shop.

“Hey,” Lance grinned, then frowned when Shiro only raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms expectantly. 

He looked so pathetic. How a man could go from shooting down a criminal, to cringing under Shiro’s gaze, Shiro had no idea. He sighed, running his hand through his fringe. “Buy me dinner and I’ll let you apologize.”

Lance’s head shot up, a wild grin spread across his lips. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Mollified, Shiro waved Lance over and started to prepare his drink.


	10. NSFW - June Drabble

Shiro had known the moment Lance walked into his office that something like this would happen. It wasn’t that he didn’t _believe_ Lance when he said that he was only here to bring Shiro lunch, it was just…he _didn’t_ believe him.

“Even big bad Vice Admirals need to eat, Shiro,” Lance had admonished when his husband had given him a wary look.

Shiro had actually kind of wanted the pizza that was still sitting on his desk. But to be fair, it wasn’t _all_ Lance’s fault. It wasn’t like anyone had forced him to scoot his chair back, or spread his legs, or help Lance pull his slacks and briefs down just enough for his cock to spring out. And Lance had started mouthing at the head of his cock, his pretty blue eyes wide and staring up at him, mouth stretched around Shiro’s girth and well...microwaves existed for a reason.

In fact, Shiro knew he had completely given in the moment he had touched Lance. It was too easy to run his hands through Lance's hair, to make a fist in the short curls, to hold Lance still as he slowly fucked his mouth. If he were honest, he had already lost this fight long before Lance had even shown up.

So instead Shiro went with it. He groaned, watching the way his dick appeared and disappeared between Lance’s lips, the push of it obvious in the bulge of his cheek. It was hypnotic, moving with the beat of his heart, the beat of the knocks at the door.

Wait…the beat of the…Shiro stopped, the knocks growing louder and more persistent. 

"Vice Admiral? The Admiral is here for your meeting?" 

Shiro's grip slackened in surprise, giving Lance enough leeway to pull back and tongue at his head. 

"Fuck!" Shiro hissed, eyes darting down to where Lance was currently lapping at the tip of his cock. 

"Vice Admiral?" Shiro’s secretary tried again. 

It was a moments decision. A moment of stupidity driven by Lance and his taunting eyes and that pretty pink mouth that still hadn't stopped sucking his cock. 

"Stay silent and don’t you dare stop," Shiro whispered before scooting his chair forward and effectively trapping Lance under the desk and out of view. 

"Come in, Admiral," Shiro called, saluting from his desk when the door swung open.

Lance moved forward, pressing Shiro's cock nearly to the back of his throat. 

"Forgive me for not standing, Sir. My leg has been acting up all morning," Shiro explained, his voice somehow steady even as he fought not to thrust forward, or move at all. 

The Admiral nodded, smiling amiably at Shiro. Shiro was their war hero, their prized Vice Admiral. He was allowed a few eccentricities. “I’ll get right to it then, son.”

The Vic Admiral took the seat across Shiro’s desk and Lance unzipped his own pants, jostling Shiro's knee hard enough to make it obvious. Shiro had no way of controlling him anymore, but he could feel the heat building in his cheeks as Lance kissed the head, the shaft, feather light touches that teased more then gave.

"A memorial would be a fine tribute, don’t you think, son?" The Admiral finished amiably. 

He must have been talking for a while, but Shiro hadn’t heard a word. Shiro found himself nodding, agreeing to whatever as he fought the urge to grab Lance's jaw and hold it open so he could fuck his way down his husband’s throat. As if sensing his urgency, Lance finally showed some pity and took Shiro all the way to the back of his throat. 

"Excellent! And bring that husband of yours, too."

Lance swallowed hard, his throat squeezing the head of Shiro's cock, bringing stars to Shiro’s eyes and wringing his orgasm out of him without mercy.

"Son, are you alright?" The Admiral asked, leaning forward in concern.

Shiro had gripped the desk hard, doing everything to stay silent, to keep his hips still as Lance continued to gently stuck until Shiro went soft in his mouth.

"Fine," Shiro gasped, his teeth clenched tight. 

"Well...if you're sure." The Admiral stood but stopped, giving Shiro another appraising look. "You know, I have to say I'm surprised how easily you agreed to this."

"Why’s that?" Shiro asked, still a little breathless as Lance finally sat back. 

"Well you aren't known for easily accepting any awards, but your husband seemed to think you would agree to this one. Seems he did a number on you," The Admiral laughed and walked out the door, closing it silently behind him. 

Lance was grinning sheepishly when Shiro finally pulled his chair back. "It's just one award, baby."

Shiro growled, pushing Lance back under the desk. "It’s going to take a lot more than one blowjob to make up for that."

"Yes, Sir." Lance snorted, not sounding contrite at all. 


	11. Request 1 - June

It had never even occurred to Lance to worry or think there was anything wrong with him. His family had always been unconcerned that he had never had triggered heats, despite the fact that he was the only one of his siblings not to go through them after presenting. Not every shifter _had_ triggered mating cycles, even if it was rare. Even the family doctor had waved it off as nothing, using words like asexual, and uncommon, but _nothing to worry about_. He still fell into a regular heat every few months nearly like clockwork: odd times where he didn’t really feel like himself, didn’t seem to know himself. The doctor seemed pleased by that; Lance just treated it like he had the flu.

Later, when he was older, and it might have come up again, there was always a reason for it to slip through the cracks. He was at the garrison, too busy trying to be the best to seek out other shifters. He was in space, too busy trying to survive and pumping so much adrenaline into his body he wasn’t having _any_ heats, regular or not.

It wasn’t until later, _much_ later, when Lance was walking towards the kitchen on the castle of lions that it finally came to mind again. There was something off in the air, something unfamiliar yet…not. Lance inhaled deeply, his nose twitching as he tried to identify what, exactly, he was smelling. When it finally clicked, he felt startled. The scent of a triggered heat was spicier and far more urgent then anything _he_ had experienced, but familiar enough to a child in a large family once he had placed it.

Lance followed the scent, curious, until it led him down a familiar path. The scent was stronger here, wafting out into the hall, seeping out from between the cracks of Hunk’s door.

Lance’s first thought, maybe a little naively, was that he hadn’t known Hunk was a shifter, too. But also, shifters rarely talked about it much, secrecy and privacy the only things keeping them alive for so long. He probably wore some kind of suppressant, Lance did anyway. But it wouldn’t cover the scent of heat, especially not a triggered one.

Triggered heats were, by definition, triggered _by_ something. But the only change that had happened today was…Keith had come to visit. And that was…a _development_ that Lance hadn’t really considered. He could hear them now, Hunk’s voice turned deep and gravely, Keith saying something, moaning something. Lance felt frozen, curiosity overriding embarrassment as his ears pricked up at the sounds. He felt conflicted, invading their privacy, but also…it was something so _foreign_ to him and…

“Lance?”

Startled, Lance turned to find Shiro at his side. Shiro must have found him at some point and was now peering at him a little curiously from behind his fringe. “What are you doing?”

“Uh…I’m…nothing?” Lance shrugged, flushing a little at being caught doing something clearly so wrong.

Shiro, bless him, let it go immediately, his smile turning fond as he moved closer to take Lance’s elbow in his hand. “I’m glad I found you.”

“You…you are?”

Shiro nodded, sidling a little closer. Lance watched his face curiously, looking for something unwanted, but all he found was that simple warmth that had started to blossom between them ever since Shiro had returned. Lance would say he missed the dark hair, but the white was growing on him. It made Shiro a little ethereal, even though he had always been a little out of Lance’s world.

And this out of world man had picked him. It was clear they had _something_ going on, unnamed, unclassified, but Shiro frequently held his hand and took him off to the side like this and Lance felt warm even at the mention of his name. It was _something_ even if Lance didn’t know what it was.

“Lance?”

“What? Sorry, I…” Lance bit his lip.

It was clear he had missed whatever Shiro had said, but Shiro only laughed. “I said, would you want to come planet side with me? Allura says it’s okay.”

“Oh! Yes!” Lance nodded, delighted by the prospect of fresh air.

Shiro looked pleased, sliding his hand down from Lance’s elbow to lace their fingers together and pull Lance to the pods. It was a quick ride down to the planet, the castle hovering close to the edge of the atmosphere as they waited for instructions on their next move.

When they stepped out of the pods, the air was heavy with humidity and the scent of trees and growing things. The atmosphere was a little thicker than on earth, leaving Lance pleasantly light headed, his palm sweating where it was pressed up against Shiro’s bare skin. It felt good to be outside of the filtered air, it loosened something in Lance, something animalistic and a little reckless.

Maybe it was because of this that Lance thought about Hunk again, about Keith…about how he _had_ to know. And if Keith knew, was _okay_ with it, then…well…Shiro would…he couldn’t imagine _Shiro_ would ever react badly. But he worried. Things were so fragile between them. And it wasn’t…it wasn’t just _that_ but also the sudden reminder that he wasn’t the same as Hunk. He would likely never have a triggered heat and while it didn’t bother _him_ what if Shiro…

And what if Shiro cared that he _didn’t_ want…things…outside of heats?

“Hey, look!” Shiro whispered, pointing at a flower ahead of them, breaking Lance from his spiral.

It was something like a butterfly, but it was so much larger, weighing down the flower where it sat so it dipped nearly to the ground. The wings were iridescent, nearly glowing in the rays of sunshine filtering through the trees, reds and purples, and little spots of green.

“It’s beautiful,” Lance gasped, slowing their walk to a stand still as they watched the insect work.

“Like you,” Shiro agreed, and when Lance looked up, Shiro’s attention was entirely on him.

Lance’s heart was pounding, at the attention, at the sudden desire to speak with Shiro so close, so clearly adoring. He could feel the animal instinct close to the surface, wanting out, pumping adrenaline, raising the hair on the back of his neck. “Shiro I…I wanted to tell—"

“Wait!” Shiro tensed, looking away from Lance and to the underbrush with wary eyes.

Lance could hear it too now. Frantic rustling, stomping feat. Lance was sure he could smell decay and blood and heat, a predator on the move. There was no time to react, to think, beyond instinct. When the creature burst through, Lance saw fur, his vision shifting, blurring before turning sharp. He could smell more now, an earthy…herbivore fragrance that only barely processed as Lance hissed. He could taste blood in his mouth from where his fangs had nicked his bottom lip. His tail lashed uncomfortably where it was trapped in his pants.

And just as quickly as it started, it stopped. The animal, that Lance now recognized was _not_ a predator, despite it’s giant size, immediately turned tail, not expecting or prepared for a fight. It quickly backed back up into the forest, and Lance thought he saw babies being ushered away as well.

Lance turned, embarrassed and huffing through his fangs to see Shiro standing, unharmed and…amused. “So, that’s what it takes for you to tell me?”

“What?” Lance asked through a mouthful of teeth.

He couldn’t get them to retract, too keyed up. His tail was cramping but he couldn’t find the capacity to reach around and rip a hole in the seat of his pants.

“I grew up next door to a shifter family. Scent marking everyone is kind of a giveaway,” Shiro continued, ignoring Lance’s question. 

Even more embarrassed, Lance’s eyes widened. “I don’t!”

“You do. But I’m not complaining,” Shiro laughed, blushing a little.

Lance’s heart was still pounding, torn between anxiety and embarrassment and confusion and…

“Actually, I was surprised you hadn’t,” Shiro gestured a little vaguely at Lance, the ground, the sky. “The closer we got.”

 _Somehow_ Lance understood what he meant. Shiro was blushing even more now, a dead giveaway even in the heat of the forest.

Taking a deep breath, Lance focused on a rock at Shiro’s feet and explained. “I’ve never had a triggered heat. I’ve never really thought about it much and…even sex outside of my normal heats…it’s not…it isn’t really something I’m…interested in.” Lance stopped, catching his breath before rushing on, “But I would super love to kiss and cuddle you…if you want…of course….”

There was a long silence as Lance trailed off. An insect had crawled up onto the rock Lance was watching.

As the silence drug on, Shiro finally sighed. “Lance, baby, look at me.”

Lance had every intention of _not_ looking at Shiro, actually. But it was the first time he had called him baby, and he was looking before he even thought not to, his fangs and tail retracting in surprise. 

“I want to show you something,” Shiro said, reaching out and offering his hand for Lance to take again.

Confused, Lance allowed Shiro to pull him through the last few feet of trees and underbrush. There was a clearing just before a cliff, a clear view of a waterfall in the distance and all the trees of the forest below catching Lance’s breath in his throat. His ears were still eat, catching the sound of running water and far off birds.

Lance almost missed the blanket and the picnic basket in his awe, but Shiro was pointing to them with his free hand. “I brought this down earlier…just in case you wanted to kiss and cuddle,” Shiro teased lightly.

Speechless, Lance only nodded. He could feel heat pricking at the corners of his eyes but fought it back. Even though Lance had never thought about it as a problem, not consciously, he realized now that there had always been a little niggling feeling that maybe someone else wouldn’t agree. That maybe _Shiro_ wouldn’t agree.

But when Lance followed Shiro to the blanket and let him pull him down beside him, it felt a little like he was exhaling for the first time in a long time. And when he breathed in, Lance smelt something entirely new from Shiro. It was warm like heat or rut, but soft, sweet and delicate, wafting off Shiro every time he looked at Lance. It reminded him a little of what his family smelt like when they told him they loved him.


	12. SFW - July Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shklance - magic au

When Shiro gets home their fish are missing. His first instinct is to think the cats got them and how he absolutely does not want to deal with enchanting a cat stomach…again. Except, they’re all gone, the house unusually quiet and devoid of arguing or moaning or anything Shiro typically comes home to. Only Shiro’s own familiar perches on his shoulder, hulking, black, and giving him a back ache as she skeptically surveys their abode.

Shiro has been gone for a week, investigating improper use of magic along the coast. It has been a _long_ week alone and he isn’t afraid to say he missed his boyfriends. Shiro is even man enough to admit he had expected a particular welcome back, Lance jumping into his arms, Keith coming up behind and kissing his neck, both telling him how much they missed him.

Except he can’t find them anywhere, and Shiro is feeling at least a _little_ bit neglected. After some careful searching, he does eventually find them standing out in the garden, several fish levitating around them, each encased in personalized bubbles of water to keep them alive and swimming through air. Keith and Lance’s cats are watching the bubbles excitedly, climbing over each other and trying to reach the dancing spheres as they levitate through the air.

Settling against the door frame, Shiro gets a kick out of it every time one of the cats jumps, the bubbles reflexively moving away, sending the cats’ tails flickering in agitation and excitement. Shiro can see Keith’s fingers twitch each time, meaning he is keeping a much closer eye on them then it looks, and Shiro feels overwhelmingly fond.

He may not have got his welcome, but there is something so familiar and comforting about watching his boyfriends argue. Keith and Lance are standing in the backyard, Lance’s bare toes digging into the earth unconsciously as Keith holds a ball of fire in his hands. They’re bickering more like, not really arguing at all. Shiro can see the way their magic intertwines, how it is already reaching back for him even though the two haven’t noticed him just yet.

Shiro could make himself known, but Lance seems to be doing some complex wand waving and Shiro is content to watch and listen. 

“The pond should be a mobius strip,” Lance explains, exasperated and likely not for the first time.

“No, that’s stupid, that’s…” Keith stops, his argument derailed as Lance leans forward to kiss him.

Neither Keith nor Shiro miss the way the little river in the air beside them is starting to shape as Lance deepens the kiss, elements shifting as Lance tries to distract his boyfriend by slipping his tongue between Keith’s lips. The fire ball Keith was holding hits the water, thrown behind his back to avoid burning Lance. It destroys the water immediately, allowing steam to rise up into the air as Keith grasps the back of Lance’s neck, keeping him from going too far as Lance indignantly tries to pull away.

“Keith!”

“I said no,” Keith smirks, diving in for another kiss.

Lance looks equally ready to stomp his foot in frustration as he is to succumb to Keith’s open and waiting mouth, except Lion meows imperiously from Shiro’s shoulder, catching their attention before their mouths can meet.

“Shiro!” They each exclaim, and Shiro is gratified to find his welcome home exactly as he expected, Lance dropping all of his weight into Shiro’s arms as he wraps his lanky legs around Shiro’s waist.

He can taste the tea on Lance’s tongue, a little sweeter then normal and likely straight from Keith’s mouth to theirs. The feeling of Keith’s lips on the back of his neck is more comforting then anything and Shiro sighs as he allows Lance to pull away and drop his feet to the ground.

Shiro doesn’t need to ask what they were arguing about, the style of the garden an old argument from before they had even bought the house straight out of school. Instead, Shiro pulls them both inside, leaving the cats and the bubbles out in the garden to sway in the breeze.

Shiro waves his hand when they finally get to the kitchen, wandless, wordless magic sending a shadow to cast over the oven and move the kettle onto the stove. It’s been a week since he saw them, and Shiro can’t wait to tell them about the exploding cauldrons, to hear about Lance’s students, to find out what potion Keith recently perfected.

But for now, he is content to pull them down onto the couch, music pouring from nowhere, and wait for the kettle to sing.


	13. NSFW - July Drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shklance - sex pollen

Lance grunted, swinging his bayard back and forth in front of him to clear their path through the forest. It was hot, sticky, and muggy beyond belief and Lance was honestly about this close to losing it. The grass was tall, slapping at his exposed face and neck, large blossoms as big as his head swaying as they moved.

There were insects, too, buzzing unseen around them, mixing in with the pollen raining down every time Lance took another whack at the greenery on their path. When Lance went to take another swing, he was surprised to find Keith’s hand on his arm.

Keith looked shockingly feverish, cheeks unevenly flushed, eyes a little glassy as he snapped, “Quit doing that!”

Distracted, Lance did stop, stepping closer to inspect Keith instead. He didn’t even know he was scratching at his own neck with his free hand until Shiro grabbed it as well, holding Lance between them.

“Lance, what is wrong with your neck?” Shiro frowned, grabbing Lance’s chin and tilting it up so he could get a better look.

The cool metal of Shiro’s hand felt good on Lance’s skin, which suddenly felt warm and irritated. He could tell Keith was scratching now, too, long welts appearing under his nails across his skin.

Alarmed, Shiro pulled them both against him, stilling their movements and trapping their arms against their sides. Up close, Lance could see Shiro’s eyes were just as glassy as Keith’s, even if he seemed more focused. Pollen had colored Shiro’s hair yellow, and something niggled at Lance’s thoughts that was quickly lost in the breeze.

“Come here,” Shiro pulled them both closer, holding them as they grumbled and struggled against him before finally falling still.

After a moment Lance spoke up, distress coloring his voice. “Hey uh…Shiro?”

“Wait, is that… _Lance?_ ” Keith groaned, but his exasperation sounded…off.

“ _What_? I don’t know why? I can’t… _wait, you’re hard, too_ ,” Lance accused, wiggling closer to his boyfriend to prove a very obvious point.

Shiro was embarrassed to find that he was also hard and leaking in his suit, but remained silent, trying to figure out what was going on and if he needed to call Allura to halt the mission. They were supposed to be retrieving an artifact for the resistance but something was very clearly…wrong.

“Lance,” Keith sighed, and Shiro was sure it was meant to sound annoyed except he was pulling Lance close and biting at his mouth and Shiro was near enough he could hear the quiet smack of their lips against each other as Keith pushed his tongue into Lance’s mouth.

Unconsciously, Shiro let go and slipped a hand down the back of Lance’s suit, the pants of their suits a separate piece that Shiro could yank down to expose the pretty curve of Lance’s ass. Distracted by Keith, Lance barely seemed to notice as Shiro parted his cheeks one handed and pressed a thumb against his hole, tugging at the rim.

“Keith,” Shiro murmured, taking one hand to fist in Keith’s hair and pull him back. “He’s still open from this morning,”

There seemed to be something else driving Shiro now, buzzing under his skin as he squeezed them tighter against each other, against himself. Keith groaned, diving in to kiss Shiro in response, one hand reaching around to press his own finger in alongside Shiro’s thumb.

Lance moaned, whining as they fingered him together. It was only two fingers, but they were rough with him, distracted by each other, by Shiro’s teeth on Keith’s bottom lip. 

For a moment, Shiro struggled to remember why this was not a good idea, why he should contact the others instead of pressing his finger deeper into Lance. Except Keith was pulling his own pants down, exposing his leaking cock and Shiro lost all thought beyond _want._

It was easy to pull them both to the ground, instinct taking over as Shiro worked his own pants down before pulling Lance into his lap. The ground was uncomfortable, his armor digging into his arms and back but it was easy to forget when Lance quickly complied with Shiro’s hints, sinking down onto Shiro’s cock with a shout.

Shiro loved the image Lance made, bouncing on his cock. He loved it just as much as the sight of Keith’s cock obscuring his line of sight, dangling over his mouth and demanding entrance Shiro gladly gave. He guided Keith’s cock between his lips, the scent of him all galra musk and nearly overpowering the floral fragrance that had previously been filling his nose.

It felt to Shiro like he was on fire, Lance’s tight little ass even hotter than normal, Keith’s cock scorching in his mouth. Everything felt faster, more frantic then it ever had, and Shiro found himself quickly spilling into Lance only moments before his mouth filled with Keith’s come.

It was only with the feeling of Lance's come splattering across his skin that Shiro found some relief, his thoughts clearing enough to hear the staticky call from their communicators and Hunk warning them to avoid the field.


	14. Request 1 - July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haggar controlling Lance

It’s a weird feeling, being two in one. Sometimes he is Lance, entirely Lance, or at least he thinks he is. Those are days when things are clear, when he seems to have more control but his memories are hazy gaping holes he couldn’t find his way out if he tried. He stands on the edge and knows he would fall, dropping into eternity if he ever had the guts to jump.

Those are the good days though, days when he can laugh a little, smile some. He likes Shiro more on those days, something warm and unknowable trying to fill that vacant void and every crevice of his body if it could just get past a barrier Lance didn’t remember putting up in the first place.

Shiro looks at him a lot on those days, brow creased, confusion and desire and reaching out but never grasping all coming through a single look.

Lance kind of wishes they could connect, but then the day ends, and it’s anyone’s guess what tomorrow will bring.

Other days he knows feel like a dream, watching his life through a pinhole in the dark. He can’t move his limbs, can’t think, can’t scream. He just has to sit and watch, horror building like bile in the back of his throat, choking him to silence even if he could make a noise.

Those are days when he is someone else, someone Lance thinks maybe he could name, if only it wasn’t snatched away every time it got close to his tongue, a gnarled hand appearing out of the dark to keep him blind, deaf, and mute.

Lance knows what is happening to him on those days. If only he could remember, if only he could say it on the good days, instead of realizing every time with dawning horror that he is back in that place stuck and unable to do anything about it.

Though no days are truly good, those days are the worst. He knows Shiro for what he is, or well, he knows Kuron. It’s a name Lance isn’t sure how he knows, but he does know it on those days, watching Kuron from under his lashes, sneaking in the dark, making video calls he has no memory of beyond his voice saying someone else’s words.

Lance never remembers what he says, or what he does, just that it’s all _wrongwrongwrong._

There’s only one time when Lance is fully Lance, a time he remembers more clearly than anything and thus clutches it greedily to his chest no matter who he is. Shiro, and it’s really Shiro then, calling out to him, seeing _him_ and looking just as concerned as Lance feels seeing Shiro there, in that almost negative space.

Lance can’t remember it beyond that it happened, that Shiro said his name and reached out to him, finally. There is no significance attached in Lance’s mind beyond that, other than he knows it _was_ Shiro, not Kuron. And that means something, it has to.

That heated space in his chest pulses harder whenever he takes that memory out, nearly cracking little hairline fractures in someone’s control.

-

It’s in one of those days, the dark days, the days without light or air to breathe, that Shiro, no _Kuron,_ really shows himself.

Through the cracks he is allowed, he can see a vacant look in Kuron’s eye, any recognition of Lance, or whoever he is, replaced with a docile control. His voice sounds garbled, run through with static electricity so Lance in particular cannot understand, but it’s clear he is reporting _something._

Lance can feel the panic making his limbs numb, and for just a second, he thinks he feels his own finger twitch before a sharp pain has him jolting in shock. Through the cracks Lance can see blood running down his own arm and a voice, not his voice, coming from his mouth, complaining about him getting too cocky.

The vacant look in Shiro’s eyes shifts, alertness struggling to the forefront as he gapes at the river of blood forming at their feet and just for a moment, Lance hopes in that space without hope.

-

Lance doesn’t know what prompts it, his memories never come back, not even after the event, but one day in that dark place he finally finds his voice. He knows, vaguely, that Shiro is on top of him, and it _is_ Shiro. Shiro in Kuron’s body, but _Shiro_ nonetheless.

He has Lance’s face in his hand, pinning Lance down with the weight of his body across his lap as the thing inside Lance flails and struggles and snarls into Shiro’s face. Lance feels his jaw open and close, snapping teeth at Shiro as he continues to force cradle him, white hair flopping down into worried eyes.

“Lance, baby, I know you’re in there,” Shiro is crooning, sounding frantic as he tries his best to stroke along Lance’s cheek.

It shouldn’t work, nothing has worked before, nothing has stopped the sabotage he has wrecked, and he knows he has, somewhere, unseen things done to weaken Voltron, to weaken his friends. But the cracks are getting wider in that space, Lance seeing more and more, clarity finally coming after so long in a haze of confusion and he grabs at it.

It’s all in his head but it feels like he is clawing his way out, digging himself out of a grave, reaching for the sunlight that is Shiro’s voice and touch and scent. Shiro’s lips are wet when they press to Lance’s mouth, ignoring the danger of overbalancing and losing his hold.

Lance is more in control now then he ever has been, and the press of skin, the taste of salt, it all jars him back to reality in a disconcerting leap. Lance feels that thing, _Haggar,_ slipping from his mind as bone deep exhaustion fills him and he goes limp in Shiro’s hold, head knocking the ground as he drops.

“Lance? Baby, talk to me,” Shiro is shaking him a little but Lance barely has the energy to hold his eyes open.

Reaching blindly up, Lance pats at Shiro’s cheek and it’s the first thing he’s done as himself in such a long time. It feels right, that touching Shiro is the maiden voyage back in his own body. 

-

The team isolates them after that, just for a little while. Keith and Hunk each kick up a fuss, but Allura looks so apologetic about it neither Shiro nor Lance can be offended.

“It’s for the best,” Shiro assures Keith, who is fuming on the other side of the glass, but only nods and drags Hunk off in a huff just to show he isn’t happy.

“I really am sorry,” Allura says, and she does sound so regretful that Lance just smiles at her because what else can they do?

What else could anyone have done in her position?

No one has said anything about their relationship, the way Shiro kissed him, or how they haven’t let go of each other since the event. Lance knows it’s coming though, just as soon as they are sure he and Shiro are back to normal and no longer a threat.

For now, Lance plans to spend as much time holding onto Shiro as he can. He can’t believe how much they’ve lost. Most of their relationship was spent not as themselves, but the desire is still there, just as if no time has passed.

Even here, even like this, Lance feels drawn to Shiro like a supplicant to the sun. 

There is a small cot in the quarantine room they are sharing, just big enough for Shiro to lay down on and Lance to curl up on top of his chest. It’s all bony elbows and sharp jabs to the ribcage whenever they move and Lance doesn’t think he has ever been happier or more content.

They’re laying like that when Lance finally buries his face into Shiro’s chest and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Shiro murmurs, his mouth buried in Lance’s hair when he refuses to look up.

“I should have tried harder to break her hold,” Lance confesses, and he aches, fear strangling him that Shiro will see he _was_ at fault and dump him onto the floor.

After a long silence, Shiro finally replies, his lips now at the sweaty junction of Lance’s shoulder and neck. “Then I’m sorry, too.”

“What are _you_ sorry for?” Lance asks, aghast.

He tries to pull away from Shiro’s hold but Shiro holds fast, keeping Lance tight to his chest.

“If you have to apologize, then so do I. I could have tried harder, too then.”

Lance can see what Shiro is doing, but he can’t accept it. Shiro couldn’t possibly be in the wrong here. He was being _controlled._ He wasn’t even _alive._ Lance was at least in his own body he could have…

“Should I apologize, Lance?”

“No!” Lance gasps vehemently, mouth now pressed into Shiro’s collarbone because he hasn’t been allowed to move any farther away.

“Then you don’t need to either,” Shiro assures, squeezing Lance tight enough to make the bones in his back and ribs shift.

It’s a good hurt though, a _real_ hurt. And even though Lance wants to continue arguing, he doesn’t want to give it up just yet. So, he lets Shiro hold him as they wait for the others to give them the all-clear.


	15. Request 2 - July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heith - first rut/heat shared

Keith knew it was coming even before Hunk did. He smelled it on his boyfriend right away, that overpowering alpha scent that Hunk wore so rarely but also so well it still made Keith’s knees weak. Hunk’s normal recessive alpha scent was faint compared to someone like Shiro, Keith forced to seek out Hunk’s scent behind the shell of his ear and the ripe cut of his armpit.

But during Hunk’s rut it filled every room. It soaked his clothes, clogging up Keith’s nose and making him hyper aware of Hunk and his own body by extension. It struck Keith later, much later when he was covered in bite marks and the ghost impression of fingertips, that he had never felt more omega then he did in those few days leading up to Hunk’s rut, the first one they had ever shared.

In all honesty, it was a wonder that it had taken them this long to share a cycle. But, something had always got in the way. Keith wasn’t ready, _Hunk_ wasn’t ready, then they were fighting and the BOM and everything that happened with Shiro and Kuron and the timing just never was right.

But after the two years lost, of Keith riding out his heats alone, thinking of Hunk as he spilled into his fist, Keith wondered what really was stopping him, because it certainly wasn’t that he didn’t want Hunk. Keith could say with every ounce of confidence that he had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Hunk on that day when the first tendrils of rut scent reached his nose.

That morning Keith’s mouth had filled with saliva, his fangs dropping when Hunk smiled at him over breakfast, oblivious to what he was doing to Keith.

When Keith only continued to stare, the corners of Hunk’s mouth turned down into a frown, a little crease forming between his eyes as he inspected Keith from across the table. “Keith?” Hunk asked and he realized it was probably not the first time Hunk had said his name.

“What…I’m…yeah?” Normally Keith would have winced at how ridiculous he sounded, but Hunk smelled _good, really_ good, so good that Keith couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed or anything beyond the ache of want forming at the base of his spine.

It was only when Lance faintly groaned, _for quiznak’s sake,_ that Keith remembered where they were, that they were not alone, that his alpha boyfriend was not about to throw him over the table and take him apart and that others could likely smell exactly what was driving him wild.

In reality, Keith’s heat was about two weeks too early, but his body didn’t seem to care. His alpha wanted him, whether he realized it yet or not, and that was all it took. Hunk was still frowning at him, but Keith could see realization starting to dawn in the depths of Hunk’s brown eyes as Keith started to flush in anticipation.

“Keith,” Hunk started, but stopped when Keith stood abruptly from the table, knocking his chair back with a clang as he left the room.

Even before he got very far, it was clear Hunk was hot on his heels, the automatic door whooshing open not two seconds after it had already closed behind him.

“Keith, wait, where are you—” Hunk reached for him, but Keith dodged, picking up the pace until he was running.

He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, mixing with their footsteps echoing as Hunk gave pursuit. A bubble of laughter was working its way up Keith’s throat. The whole thing was ridiculous, but something inside told him to keep going, to give his alpha a chase.

When Hunk finally caught up, Keith was already in his room, arms trapped over his head pulling off his shirt when Hunk tackled him to the mattress with an exasperated grunt. Hunk was panting a little, his breath washing hot across Keith’s cheek but they were both grinning at each other, feeling silly and out of sorts even as their hormones started to link up.

Keith really wanted Hunk to kiss him, to press their dumb smiles together, but Hunk sat up, bracketing Keith between his thighs instead.

“You’re going the wrong way,” Keith said, raising one eyebrow even as sweat broke out across his forehead.

He could smell them both, their scents mixing together, sending Keith’s blood pressure sky high.

Hunk rolled his eyes but gave Keith a shy smile. “I just wanted to check that you’re…okay with this?”

Keith blinked, okay with…with what? Hunk fucking him? They had done that before…but Hunk gave an embarrassed, impatient grunt and Keith realized _exactly_ what Hunk meant and it scent a spike of lust down to his toes.

Was Keith okay with Hunk in _rut,_ Hunk _claiming_ him, Hunk _knotting_ him?

“I really wouldn’t mind if you…” Keith trailed off, flushing and trying to answer Hunk without _answering_ him.

“What?” Hunk frowned, but Keith could tell he was teasing and Keith groaned.

“You _know,_ ” Keith tried again, gesturing at Hunk and the bulge starting to tent his pants but Hunk only slowly shook his head.

He was going to make Keith say it. “Damn it Hunk, I want you to fucking _knot me, okay?”_ Keith huffed in exasperation.

Hunk laughed, but it must have been the magic words because he leaned back down to kiss Keith so soft it made him melt, the prickly feelings of embarrassment slipping away just as easily as they came.

“Fucking knot you?” Hunk asked, struggling to keep a straight face as he parroted Keith’s words back at him.

Hunk couldn’t hold it back though, giggling when Keith groaned and punched his shoulder lightly even as he leaned up for another kiss.

“What’s with you? Aren’t you supposed to be all _me cave man alpha, me fuck you_ right now?” Keith asked curiously.

Hunk rolled his eyes a little but still grinned, “Have you ever been with a recessive alpha during rut?”

“I’ve never been with _any_ alphas during a rut, you know that.”

Hunk sobered at that little reminder, reaching up to press his hand to Keith’s where it rested above his head.

“Recessive alphas don’t get like that. We just get really… _horny_.” Hunk confessed, cheeks pinking up. “I’m assuming it’s the same for a recessive omega?”

Keith nodded. He kind of preferred that actually. As hot as Hunk’s scent was right now, he hadn’t been looking forward to the idea of Hunk going all mindless and…well… _not Hunk._ He wanted Hunk to knot him, not some meathead possessed by their hormones.

“Lance says Shiro goes all _cave man alpha_ though, if that helps?”

“It doesn’t!” Keith groaned. “And please never mention their sex life to me again.”

Hunk paused, his eyes trailing down Keith’s chest and then even further to where Keith was soaking through his pants and onto the sheets.

“Can I…?” Hunk panted, surprised by how quickly the switch had flipped from playful to horny.

Thankfully, Keith seemed to be just as on board. He was panting too, his mouth dropped open, pretty pink tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he watched Hunk slide off the bed to quickly undress, almost forgetting to do the same. 

“Please,” Keith rasped, spreading his legs further as Hunk advanced again, pushing him down and back onto the sheets.

They both gasped as Hunk’s bare cock brushed against Keith’s. There was an obvious size difference there, Hunk’s cock alpha big, even when recessive, looking giant against Keith. But as they moved together, rocking their hips, Keith lost too much focus to care.

Hunk was three fingers deep in Keith when his knot started to form. Slick dripped down his wrist, completely ruining the sheets as Keith thrashed and dirtied his own stomach as his cock drooled. When Keith reached down for Hunk’s wrist, bending it almost painfully to shove his fingers farther into his hole, Hunk thought briefly of making another _fucking knot me_ joke.

But then Keith whispered his name, “Hunk, please. Knot me, please,” and Hunk really didn’t feel like laughing anymore. Hunk had been with others before, omegas, betas, alphas, but this was…it had never been rut and it had never been Keith.

Keith was watching him, mouth gaping open, eyes wide and glassy and _wanting_. Hunk could see the heat building up in the vacancy of his gaze, could feel his own rut rocking in his bones as he started to thrust. The knot was caught on Keith’s rim with every push and pull and Keith was chanting something as he raked his nails unevenly down Hunk’s back and over the bulge of his biceps.

“Keith,” Hunk grunted when his knot finally caught and held, locking them together and pulling almost painfully tight at Keith’s rim.

The pleasure and pain, the pressure, and more than anything the look of bliss on Hunk’s face as he stuck, sent Keith spilling over, his muscles locking up tight around Hunk’s knot. This was what he had missed all these years, so much time being stupid lost alongside even more time too far away.

Before Keith could feel himself shaking from the release, Hunk was already rubbing at his arms and chest and every available surface of skin.

“Are you okay?” Hunk asked worriedly, even as he unconsciously continued to rock his knot in even deeper.

“Yeah just…overwhelmed,” Keith laughed, embarrassed to find he was crying.

When Hunk thumbed away his tears, hovering over him, Keith only cried harder. “I missed you,” Keith confessed, not for the first time.

“I missed you, too” Hunk smiled, kissing him again.


End file.
